


Inevitable

by rebeka_fanfic



Series: One-Shots [3]
Category: Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, F/M, I guess OOC chatacters
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-29
Updated: 2018-12-29
Packaged: 2019-09-30 01:50:03
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,904
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17214749
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/rebeka_fanfic/pseuds/rebeka_fanfic
Summary: Jon Snow resents Daenerys Targaryen. Until he doesn't.ORHow one night spent together can change your view on someone.





	Inevitable

**Author's Note:**

> My first fanfic ever :)  
> Non-beta'd sorry for any mistakes, English is not my first language  
> Enjoy!

Jon Snow hates Daenerys Targaryen. It’s not an active kind of dark loathing that cripples the soul – that kind is firmly reserved for _really, really_ horrible. And Jon knows Daenerys is nothing like that, but still. She embodies every single trait that Jon quietly despises – she's a know-it-all and she’s a goddamn idealist and a general do-gooder. And Jon hates how beautiful and charming and too kind she is to everyone and it seems like every person that gets to know her falls in love with her.

But not Jon, he would never... Jon definitely resents Daenerys.

It’s that unyielding, unrelenting resentment that drives Jon as he slams his hips between Daenerys’s legs, as he holds them obscenely wide, tender skin bruising quickly under his fingers. Jon has no idea how they got in the room - probably used in other hook-ups earlier the night at the party - the sheets must be disgusting, and he grits his teeth as he holds her down, watching her writhe and pant beneath him. She looks desperate and ruined by pleasure as he fucks her hard, with no restraint.

“Yes, yes! Harder!” Daenerys whines as Jon makes his way up from the pulse point on her neck to her right cheek, sucking and licking like wolf. “That all you’ve got? Fuck me like you mean it!”

Oh how he hates the way she makes his skin boil, those violet eyes boring into his daringly, urging him to give all he got.

He’s drunk, Jon thinks even as he rams into the soft body under him. He’s drunk, they both are, otherwise Jon would have kept his mouth shut when he heard another one of Daenerys's grand speeches about politics. He's drunk, otherwise, he wouldn't have followed her and continued on arguing with her on the subject after everyone else's attention drifted from the conversation. He's drunk, otherwise, he wouldn't have let out his frustration with her by grabbing her face and kissing her.

And she's drunk, otherwise, she wouldn't have kissed him back as fiercely as she did, she wouldn't have slid her fingers through his curls and when he broke apart, entwining their fingers and pulling her after him, she wouldn't have followed him.

Jon tries to stay away from Daenerys most of the time, which should be easy because even though they are attending the same college, they are on different courses. They just have a few mutual friends.

And sure 30 thousand students have to be enough to keep them apart during their everyday lives. So when he is around campus, he surely _does not_ double-checks whenever he sees a flash of blonde hair, for it might be Daenerys.

He surely does not do that.

Avoiding her is the best solution for his resentment for her.

But as he lies next to her while both of them trying to catch their breaths, he's starting to believe that fucking her might be a better solution.

*

Sometime during the hangover haze of the next day, Jon thinks that the whole thing must have been a dream made by his drunken imagination. He couldn’t possibly have lost his head so completely as to have sex with Daenerys, out of all people at the party. To add salt to the injury, Jon needs anything but the picture of Daenerys's face while she's panting under him and the sound of the sweet voices she makes when he reached _that_ spot...No...he definitely does not need to know those things.

He almost manages to convince himself that it didn't really happen when he runs into the woman currently occupying his mind in his favorite bakery. 30 thousand people on campus and he runs into her the first thing in the morning.

She catches his eye and blushes to the roots of her hair. She's wearing a grey hoodie and Jon can see the light purple bruises on her pale skin where the neck meets the collarbone.

Jon closes his eyes.

It wasn't a dream, then.

He’s so very fucked.

*

They can forget about it. It was a simple one-night stand, two people finding companionship in the other. Alcohol and heated arguments can easily lead to that. They can forget about it because it will never happen again.

_Right?_

*

Jon doesn’t know how they end up on sitting next to each other in the back of a taxi, heading home from one their friend's birthday party. Well, it's rational to share a cab, after all, they live in the same dorm.

He really wants to kill himself at this point, because he doesn't know why the situation feels so natural.

They again get into an argument about politics, which brings back the memories of _that night_ of only two weeks ago. He wonders if she thinks about that too, so instead, he stops arguing and continues to stare out the car's window.

This time, though, it’s Daenerys who starts it, her ridiculously soft hand worming under Jon’s belt and into his briefs, wrapping around him, certain with familiarity, and after a moment of surprise, Jon's body shudders in welcome before he even knows what’s happening.

There’s nothing he can - or want to - do but to drape his jacket over both their laps. She doesn't really look at him, but from the corner of his eyes, he recognizes the same daring face she made that night... The polite and too kind and smartass Daenerys has a side Jon never saw before. They’re tired, and it’s a little frustrating, but also strangely comforting.

She falls asleep soon after, her head lolling onto Jon’s shoulder.

He doesn’t dislodge her.

*

The sounds of the party drift from the distance as Jon drags Daenerys out. He knows they shouldn't do this, but she just looks so, so...edible in that short little dress. And it's not like she's complaining. She actually wriggles her pretty ass to him when he bends her over and they end up on all fours behind the trees, the grass soft and forgiving.

He slides two fingers inside her wet tightness because lately, he realized he enjoys watching her take her pleasure as much as receiving his, if not more.

She is ridiculously responsive, and Jon is becoming concerned, because having her like this is a dangerous addiction, and he desperately wants to believe he doesn’t even like Daenerys.

But one thing is sure.  
  
He can’t get enough of her, either.

  
*

There’s the time in the public toilets near the place where he works. There’s the one in the supply closet. The one under the stars when on camping with their friends. In the movie theater, when only the two of them went, without their friends.

*

They still fight in public, but it’s different now. It feels like an act, put up for their friends. Because the heath in her eyes - which matches the fire in his - is not fueled by hatred or frustration. It still burns the same, but while arguing about the same thing over and over again, they both know how they will put the fire out before it consumes both of them.

He tries to think about the time when he started calling her Dany. Or, for that matter, when he began disagreeing with her for the single reason that she looks almost adorable when glaring daggers at Jon.

This is what madness must feel like.

*

And then there’s the time when they don’t fuck.

Jon has long conditioned himself to turn deaf when someone drunkenly says stupid things about women, but this time someone goes too far, and the vile words are directed at the girl standing next to him at the bar, who is on his mind almost all the time and patience has never been his virtue. He feels a sudden wave of possessiveness and protectiveness washing over him.

Jon’s knuckles are bruised, but at least the asshole's nose is broken, which is the only thing that keeps him going while getting threats of 'withdrawing scholarship'.

He turns up at her dorm-room a day later, feeling anger and urgency to see if she's alright.

She's not alone, there are about 2-3 people in the room with her.

Jon just stands there as all of them stare at him, the intruder, the stray dog, someone who doesn’t belong to someone as Dany.

She takes one look at him and stands up. Jon doesn’t catch her words, but suddenly everyone is clearing out, brushing past him in their way out. He steps inside but doesn't say a word.

Daenerys doesn’t say anything. She turns her back to him and promptly clears the bed of books and clothes. Then she sits down, her legs under her, and she reaches for him with her hand, a soft smile on her face.

Something stirs in Jon's chest at the site.

It’s easy to focus on as Jon starts to talk, halting and groping for words at first, but then Dany would shift ever so slightly, and his breath would hitch, words flowing freely while he’s being distracted.

It’s painful, reassuring, and strangely compelling the way they’re both so vulnerable at that moment, completely defenseless and stripped to the bone, although completely dressed up.

They talk through the night, and Jon falls asleep next to a slightly snoring Daenerys.

Holding hands all through the rest of the night.

*

Only a few months ago, Jon wouldn't have thought that one day, Daenerys will be his, more than anything else. After all the arguing and disagreeing and resentment - which he now believes was always more like an underlying, inevitable attraction - she is his and he is hers, completely. He has no idea how or when it happened, can't pinpoint it out, but he doesn’t deny it and doesn’t even want to.

Because now, when they kiss, it’s sweet, gentle, and careful, like Daenerys is the most precious thing that needs to be preserved and protected.

And to him, she is.

She says she felt it for a long time now, even before their first night together, but believed Jon really did hate her.

He doesn't say it's true, because even though he did feel that way, he sees it now clearly. It was never hatred, not even resentment.

It was his defense mechanism against something, or rather _someone_ he knew could either save him or broke him. And he was just not ready to gamble back then.

Jon would be embarrassed, but Dany is smiling at him like she knows, like she’d known all along or at the very least suspected, but was too afraid to believe.

Somehow it makes the panic abate.

*

After months spent in each other's company, they still argue, but they both listen now unless they are in the mood for angry sex. Daenerys is onboard with that surprisingly often, and then they get dirty looks and a pile of complaints the next morning, but the way she looks when she wakes after a night like that is ten times worth it all and more.

On one of those mornings, still early, both of them awake. Jon kisses her for what seems like hours, and, come hell or high water, this is the rest of their lives now, and when the fuck did that happen?

Daenerys purrs, curled up against him in their narrow bed, and Jon smiles as he drifts back to sleep.

And it feels just so right.

**Author's Note:**

> I hope you enjoyed this little thing, please tell me what you think in the comments.
> 
> Also, none of you will remember, but about 2 months ago, I posted an 'I need help' kinda thing here. I have a huge GOT (Jonerys) story idea, but I would really like to co-write it with someone. A few people contacted me back then, andI'm really grateful for it, but they kindly offered their help as a beta. 
> 
> So if any of you would be interested in writing a story, please say so in the comments! :)


End file.
